


I Hate The Way You Break Me

by Wine_Into_Water



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-26
Updated: 2010-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wine_Into_Water/pseuds/Wine_Into_Water
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when it looked like they might have a shot at their happily ever after, Dean begins to get haunted by old demons, one in particular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate The Way You Break Me

He couldn’t help the whimper that passed through his lips. It had been so long since Dean has touched him like that. He’d almost forgotten the way it felt to have his brother’s hands running over his body, the burn of his lips when they touched his skin, the jolt of excitement when Dean’s teeth grazed his neck with a nibble or bite.

“Dean…” he was proud of himself for being able to remember how to speak.

“Shhhh, Sammy, I got you.”

The rough whisper of his childhood name was spoken against the edge of his ear and went straight to his dick. He never admitted it out loud but he always loved when Dean called him that, especially when they were like this, the world around them forgotten, nothing but the sound, taste and feel of each other.

The words were followed by kisses along his jaw line until Dean’s lips met his again, urgent and gentle all at the same time. He could feel his knees getting weak and giving a little bit as Dean’s mouth moved back to his neck. He was more than happy to arch it back, giving Dean more access. His brother took advantage of the offer and began to work his way down, lips and tongue not missing an inch. He felt Dean’s stubble as it brushed along his sensitive skin and it just made him even harder. He never thought they’d have this again. Dreamt about it, sure, but he had known the bridges he had burnt, the trust he had lost and all the hurt he had caused. He didn’t deserve to be loved like this, not by Dean. But he wasn’t going to turn away from it either. If Dean had wanted to take another chance on him and try again then fuck, he was going to jump at the opportunity and prove himself to Dean all over again. Good intentions or not, he couldn‘t afford to fuck up again, not if the price to pay was Dean.

He felt Dean’s hands fumble with the button of his jeans while his mouth was busy sucking another dark bruise on his neck.

“Dean…Dean, you sure…? Need you to be sure.”

He felt Dean’s lips curl into a smirk against his neck.

“Never been more sure about anything, Sammy.”

Dean felt the shudder that rippled through his brother’s body as he bit back down on this brother’s neck. He was telling the truth, he hadn’t been surer of anything in years. Sure, they had issues that still needed to be worked through, a few scars still too fresh to fade away, but him and Sammy…it was what kept him sane. Now with the apocalypse averted, things could be reset back to the way they were before…and this…whatever this was between them, was right. It always had been.

He finally had success at getting the damn button to work for him and he moved onto the zipper. He could feel Sam hard against the metal, pushing against it, waiting to be released from the confining denim. Always one to help out somebody in need, Dean worked the zipper down. He pulled back from Sam’s neck and took in the sight as he pushed his brother’s jeans and boxers past his hips, just enough to free Sam’s leaking cock. It stood proud, slapping up against Sam’s t-shirt, and that wouldn’t do. Dean reached for the hem of the thread bare shirt, pulled it up and over Sam’s head and let it drop to the floor. Now his brothers cock was against bare skin, his hair ruffled and messy. It was the perfect picture, one that Dean had dreamt about for months.

“Dean, please.”

“What do you need, Sammy?”

“Need you.”

Dean kissed his little brother and rested his hands on Sam’s bare hips. When they broke apart to breathe, he asked again, “What do you need?”

“God, Dean, anything. Just need you.”

He loved the way Sammy was with him. He had seen how Sam was with women, aggressive and controlling, using his size to dominate, but with them it was never like that. There were a few times when Dean pushed the right buttons, got his little brother jealous, provoked him, made him possessive and protective and he’d remind Dean just who he belonged to. But for the most part, it was just like this, Sammy totally submissive, begging Dean for what he wanted, more than willing to let Dean take what he needed. Dean had always been amazed with the trust Sam had in him, and in them.

He stood back and pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it behind him. Then he took a step closer, back to Sam, their bodies a whisper away from touching.

“Dean…”

Sam couldn’t take the torture anymore, he wanted, needed to feel Dean’s mouth on him. He honest to God let out a whimper when Dean sunk to his knees, mouth inches away from his cock. He had no control over his body as he jerked his hips forward, lust taking over, just wanting Dean’s mouth on him.

Dean chuckled as he placed his hands on his waist and held him in place. “Easy, Sammy, want to take this nice and slow.”

Sam could have sworn he felt tears sting his eyes from the need and frustration that rushed through his body.

“Dean…” Before he could finish his protest, Dean had shown him mercy and taken him in his mouth, going down nice and slow, inch by agonizing inch until the head of his cock was hitting the back of his brother’s throat. He would have came right then and there if his brother wasn’t such a mean bastard and didn’t grip the base of his cock, making sure to hold off any earth shattering orgasm that was itching to bust through.

He got lost in the moment, his head thrown back, touching the wall, eyes closed tight as he let the feeling of Dean’s warm mouth work him over. He listened for the wet slurps Dean made as he moved back and forth, knowing that Sam liked it wet and messy.

He was taken by surprise when he felt a finger rub against his puckered opening before slowly pushing its way in. Dean released what little hold he had left on him.

“Fuck my mouth, Sammy.”

He couldn’t claim he had always been the obedient little brother, but this time he didn’t hesitate to follow orders. He started to thrust, forcing Dean to take him all the way down, loving the breathless gagging sounds that seemed to echo in the empty room. He wouldn’t last much longer, and when he felt Dean’s finger rub against his prostate, he was done.

“Easy, Sammy. Easy.”

Dean held his shaking brother in his arms and walked him towards the bed. Once the back of Sam’s knees touched the edge of the bed he pushed Sam down until he was sitting. He bent down and kissed him, it was suppose to be a quick and gentle kiss to encourage Sammy to move further back on the bed and spread out for him, but instead as soon as their lips touched, Sam pulled him down and deepened this kiss. His large hands held Dean’s face in place as he continued to delve deeper with his tongue.

The kiss continued, getting more intense with each passing second. Dean sank back down to his knees for a better angle. He rested his hands on Sam’s thighs, which were on each side of him. He could feel his brother starting to get hard again.

Minutes, maybe even hours, passed before Sam finally pulled away for longer than it took to take a quick breath. Dean leaned back in to follow Sam’s lips. When Sam scooted back further onto the bed, he put his hands on Dean’s shoulders to make him follow along. Dean stood up and undid his belt and jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He pushed his boxer briefs down and stepped out of them then tugged on the leg of Sam’s jeans, tossing them onto his own.

Finally his little brother was laid out for him, looking like he could have stepped out of some damn magazine. He was gorgeous, with miles of dark skin and chiseled features.

Sam spread his legs and bent he’s knees up, presenting himself for his older brother.

“Damn it, Sammy.”

The only response he got in return was a sinister grin and an arched eye brow. He threw Sam the lube. “Open yourself up for me.”

Dean watched as Sam did as he was told. Sam, the fucking tease took his time. One finger, then a second and finally a third, sounding like a fucking porn star every time he pushed back in.

He couldn’t hold off any longer, he got on the bed and moved in between Sam’s legs. “That’s enough.” His voice low and rough.

Sam grabbed his cock, spreading lube on then aimed him towards his well stretched hole. He should have taken it slow, it had been so long since they shared this, he should treasure the moment a little more, but it was as if his animal instincts had taken over. He thrust in hard and fast, sinking all the way in until his balls slapped against skin. Sam’s legs immediately wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him in further. Dean pulled Sam up until he was practically sitting on his lap, both moaned as Dean sunk in deeper. They started to move, Sam meeting every single one of Dean’s thrusts. It was hard and fast, both of their bodies tangled with the other to the point where it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. Emotionally it felt the same way. They had craved this for so long. It only took a few more stokes and Sam began to come, pulling Dean with him.

When the intensity was over, they untangled and pulled apart. Dean laid down and Sam curled up next to him, head on his chest, hand running over his stomach, just like always. Dean felt his eyes close, they could clean up later, right now he’d just enjoy the moment, having his Sammy back in his arms, like they were always meant to be.

 

~*~

 

“Dean please don’t, you don’t want to do this! This isn’t you.”

Dean kinked his head to the side and allowed a small sinister smirk to spread across his face.

“You sure about that, Sammy?”

He watched his little brother’s reaction, watched as the fear grew in Sam’s eyes. Listened as his breathing became faster. He followed the path of a bead of sweat find its way down the side of Sam’s face before it fell and landed on his chest.

“Dean, please.”

Dean’s gripped the handle of the sharp silver blade he held in his right hand tighter, took a step closer, his bare feet sticking to the bloody steal surface of the floor. The bottom of his jeans were weighed down and caked by blood, saturated enough that they hung low on his hips.

With his voice rougher than usual he began to speak, “Funny you should beg, Sammy. Everybody begs, they plead and cry, trying to make deals. Like they’d have anything I’d want anyway.” He paused and then let out a humorless chuckle. “I was the same way you know? Thirty years I called out for you. Called your name over and over again, hoping and believing you’d come too help me. My throat torn raw, my voice so horse it was barely over a whisper but still I begged of you to save me. You never did.”

The fear in Sam’s eyes turned to sympathy.

“Dean, I tried, over and over I tried but I couldn’t get to you. Nothing I did was enough.”

Rage started to build up in his chest, his knuckles turned white around the knife handle, and his hand began to shake.

“You didn’t.”

“Dean, I swear to you I did. I tried to sell my soul, tried to open hell’s gate. I tried Dean.”

Dean lashed out, slicing a line down Sam’s chest, ending just at the top of his belly button.

“You didn’t! Fucking the demon that helped put me here isn’t trying, Sammy.”

He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. He didn’t want to snap like he had, wanted to make the first cut nice and slow, watch as the blood spilled out onto tan skin, wanted to savor the scream and lick away the tears that were sure to fall.

He leaned back in, pushing close against Sam as he fought against the chains that bound him. He felt the warm blood that trickled out of the fresh wound and smeared against his chest.

“Sorry, baby, didn’t want it to be this way, wanted to take it slow.”

He dipped his head, ran his tongue along the top of the fresh cut. He heard Sam gasp above him. He smiled against his brother’s skin. Before he looked up he took another lick. He then stood straight, stepping back and distancing himself from his brother. Sam’s body was weak, his knees had given away a short time ago, now they just hung there by his arms, making him eye level with Dean. With his left hand, Dean reached out and lifted Sam’s chin upwards so that they were staring into each others eyes.

“Surprised, baby boy? You’re not the only one that developed a taste for blood while I was away.”

Before Sam could say anything Dean’s right hand lifted, knife still held tight, and he slashed it across Sam’s throat.

Dean woke up with a gasp, his breath was coming fast and his heart was pounding hard. He tightened his arms around his brother and pulled him impossibly closer then he listened for Sam’s breathing. He calmed himself down slightly as he heard the steady breaths that told him Sam was fine and was having a peaceful sleep.

As careful as he could, he pulled away from him and eased his way out of bed. When he was free he made sure Sam was still in one piece, unmarked except for the few bruises he had sucked into the skin while they were making love.

He ran his hands over his face. The dream had scared him, he couldn’t explain it away. It made no sense. He had been plagued with nightmares since he was pulled from hell, in some he was the one tortured, others he was the one doing the torturing. He was back in that room that stunk of fresh blood with the floors covered in crimson, blood leaking towards the middle of the room, causing a continuous swirl of the thick red liquid as it disappeared down a drain. Organs littered the floor, ripped hearts, stretched intestines, cut open livers among them, scattered around after being kicked to the side once they fell from the victims. They were images that Dean would never forget, etched into his brain for eternity, their clarity never fading, not now, not fifty years from now.

That still didn’t help him understand why Sam had suddenly landed a staring role in the dark place in his mind. It had never happened before and the things he had said, it made him want to get sick. He had never thought that way. Of course he had hated that Sam had turned to Ruby, ultimately choosing the demon bitch over his own brother, but with time he had understood where Sam had been coming from. It was that dark place in his mind and heart, lost and alone, no hope for the future and praying for death. He had been there once. It was what started this whole mess.

He pulled on his jeans and threw on his shirt without bothering with his boots. He just needed to get some air, get away for awhile and clear his head. With his hand on the doorknob, he looked back at Sam then walked out the door.

 

~*~

 

He wasn’t sure what had caused him to wake up. Maybe it was the far off sound of an ambulance siren, maybe it was the cool night breeze that came through the open window, but most likely it was the cool empty spot beside him that Dean had occupied just a few hours before as they fell asleep in each others arms.

Sam threw the blankets off of his body and sat up, looking around the dark room. His eyes first went to the corner where Dean had placed his duffle bag when they arrived. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the dark outline of Dean’s belongings. He then glanced over to the spare bed thinking maybe Dean had decided to sleep on his own after all, but from what he could tell in the dim light the extra bed hadn’t been touched. He stood up and walked to the bathroom, the light was off but it wouldn’t have been the first time Dean didn’t bother flicking the switch on.

“Dean?”

Nothing, the bathroom was empty. Dean’s cell phone and wallet laid on the night stand. The only thing missing or out of place were the clothes that Dean had dropped on the chair when he got undressed.

Sam walked to the window to look out to see if the Impala was where they had parked it. Sometimes when Dean couldn’t sleep he would go for a drive to calm himself down. He pulled the curtain back and was greeted by the sight of the Impala right where they had left her.

He felt the anxiousness he had been feeling change to annoyance when he spotted Dean with his back towards him leaning on the back of the car. He wasn’t alone. Cas was right there beside him, standing close enough that their sides were touching.

He knew that something had been bothering Dean for weeks now. If he thought about it, he could trace it back to the night when they had restarted their relationship. The morning after Dean had been distant, like his mind was somewhere else. At first he had thought his brother had regretted what had happened and was trying to figure out a way to break it to him that he had been wrong, that they couldn’t do this anymore, that they should both chalk up the night before to one last fuck and move on with their lives.

He had waited nervously all day for the words to spill out of Dean’s mouth. They never came. That night went like the night before, both ended up sweaty and tangled with each other. Finally he let himself believe that his brother regretted nothing, but there was something still bothering him. Each morning he’d wake up and the circles under Dean’s eyes only got darker, he hadn’t been sleeping.

On a couple occasions he had felt Dean slip out of bed and each night he feared that whatever was bothering him had come to a boiling point. He was afraid Dean would just pick up and leave, but instead he’d just go outside and wait until Cas showed up. They’d just stand there like Castiel’s being there was some sort of reassurance to Dean. Then Dean would come back in, slip back into bed with him, like nothing ever happened.

Sam strained to hear what they were talking about, but he could only make out a soft murmur when he did hear anything at all. For the most part it looked like they were just standing there, like always.

Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a slight tinge of jealously. He knew Dean wouldn’t cheat on him and that nothing had happened between his brother and the angel before he and Dean started their relationship back up again. The jealously was about something else. There had been a time when it was him and Dean just sitting out on the car, saying nothing, just being together, the nearness of the other offering comfort and security. He had hoped when they decided to be lovers again that everything would fall back into place, things would go back to the way they use to be. The reality of it was that nothing had just shifted back into place and he had been an idiot to think it ever would.

He had wanted to be the hero, to march right into hell and save Dean. He had tried everything, everything that was humanly possible to get to him, and some things that weren’t, but nothing he did was enough. Then Cas just sweeps in and saves him. Plucks Dean right out of the pit and drops him top side like it was the easiest thing in the world. He was grateful of course. It shouldn’t matter who saved Dean, just that somebody finally did, but it still stings. When his brother had needed him the most there was nothing he could do and now Cas was the one Dean turned too. They had a bond that Sam would never be able to penetrate.

With a sigh he let the curtain fall back into place and made his way back to the bed. Dean would come back when he was ready and maybe he’d even open up and tell Sam what was bothering him so much that he needed midnight visits with Cas.

~*~

He should have waited until Dean opened up to him. It would have happen eventually, it always did, but another week had drifted by and nothing had changed. It was still a distant Dean with nightly visits from Castiel. He decided he would do what any good brother would do and he’d get to the bottom of this. If Cas hadn’t figured out a way to help Dean through whatever was bothering him then maybe Sam could.

He had figured a few things out. He made it a point to not fall asleep. Dean would drift off first and he’d wait and he’d watch, It never seemed that Dean was having a nightmare. His body always remained calm, no mumbled words or flailing hands, but he’d always wake up with a start, his heartbeat would quicken and he’d begin to sweat. Sam could sense his brother was checking him over, like he was making sure he was okay then he’d get up and go out and continue the nightly ritual.

He had prepared himself for tonight, called Bobby and got the supplies. He waited until he was sure Dean had fallen asleep then he reached into the dresser drawer and pulled out a cup of the liquid that he would need. He then leaned in and licked Dean’s lips, ducking his tongue in just long enough to make sure he had gotten some of Dean’s spit on it, then he pulled back and drank down the bitter tasting liquid. If Dean wouldn’t come to him, then he’d go to Dean.

He didn’t know where he was. It was dark, dark enough that he couldn’t see past his own hand in front of his face. It was like looking into complete emptiness.

He stood there, silent and still trying to catch his bearings, see if his other senses might kick up a notch and tell him were to go. Finally he could hear voices. One was Dean, the other he couldn’t tell. He walked towards the noise, Dean’s voice becoming clearer the closer he got. He reached what might have been a door, maybe a wall. Still unable to see anything he felt around, looking for a doorknob just in case. In a few seconds his hand touched a knob and he gripped it hard, stilling himself for what he might see on the other side.

“I would advise you not to go in there.”

Sam jumped at the words that had been spoken behind him. He turned to find Castiel standing there, casting enough light to shine over the two of them.

“What are you doing here?”

“A better question to ask would be what are you doing here?”

“Something’s bothering Dean, I came to figure out what it is.”

The angel took a step closer towards him, getting too close, invading his personal space like Dean often complained about.

“Don’t you think that if Dean needed or wanted your help he would have asked?”

Sam got defensive. Cas had unknowingly, or maybe even knowingly, struck a wound.

“He’s my brother.”

“It’s best that you leave. I’ll take care of your brother.”

Sam had about enough, pissed that not only was the angel telling him to leave, but that he was even there in the first place. Sam was aware that Cas could enter Dean’s dreams, but he didn’t know it was a common occurrence.

“I’ll take care of him myself.” He turned back around and swung open the door, there was no preparing himself for the scene that greeted him when he walked in through the door.

His body was hanging from chains, meat hooks stabbed through his shoulders and ankles, countless cuts and stabs were all over is body. His chest was cut open to the bone. Dean stood in front of him, splattered with blood, Ruby’s knife turning in his hand.

“Wanted to save you,” he hear himself say, barely over a whisper. Sounds of gurgling accompanied his words.

Dean’s voice was cold and mocking. “And how were you going to do that, Sammy, huh? What was the big master plan? What took you forty years? Were you going to blow the gates of hell off its hinges and come marching in? Use special little super powers to get to me, was that it?”

Sam felt his heart break, and his stomach began to churn. How could Dean be doing this, to him?

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes flickered back to his body hanging there, in time to see his head sag forward and blood drop from his mouth.

“Sorry, kiddo, not good enough.” Dean raised his hand and was about to deliver another blow.

“Dean stop!” he yelled out.

Dean stopped in mid motion, and turned to face him.

Suddenly they were somewhere else. The room had changed into an empty field, surrounded by bush.

“Knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away, God, Sammy you’re so predictable.”

“Dean…”

“Could never leave well enough alone could you? Had to come and snoop around. Always have to ruin my fun, I was just about to rip out your heart.”

“You’re still doing a pretty good job of that.”

A delighted smile spread across his brother’s face. “Yeah, this is a bit more fun. Still wanted to see more blood though.”

“He’s not your brother, Sam, not really.” Sam turned back around, having forgotten that Castiel was even there.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“It’s the demon within him.”

None of this was making any sense. “Dean has a demon in him? He’s possessed?”

Cas began to speak as if talking to a young child. “When a soul is sent to hell, over time any humanity that is left will grow darker and darker until there is nothing left and in it’s place, a demon.”

“I get that, but Dean was only down there for forty years.”

“Only forty years?” Dean’s voice boomed from behind.

Cas ignored the other Dean and kept on explaining. Sam’s attention was torn between the angel trying to make sense of the situation and the image of his brother scowling at him.

“Dean has always been the exception. His soul was never meant to be in hell. He was a righteous man.”

Dean snickered. “Righteous, right. I fuck my brother.”

Sam flinched at how cold it sounded. He and Dean had always been more than just a quick and convenient fuck. He tried to push the hurt aside and continue on. “My father, was in hell longer than Dean was when we freed him.”

“Yes, he was, but there is one drastic difference. Your father never picked up the knife. He never took Alastair up on his deal. Your father never had to deal with the guilt of torturing others.”

“What…” Sam began to ask but Dean interrupted him.

“Ok that’s enough caring and sharing. Time to get the show on the road.”

Before Sam had a chance to turn around to see what the other Dean was talking about a loud shot sounded out and he felt a sharp pain in his back. He fell to his knees in an instant. He could feel blood rapidly pouring out, his world began to darken, much like when he first entered the dream, then he fell forward, his body and face hitting the ground hard. It was the last thing he remembered.

“Sammy!”

Dean dropped the gun and ran towards his brother. He fell to his knees and pulled Sam’s bloody body close to him. He placed his hand over the gun shot wound and pulled it back to see it covered with blood.

“Sammy, no.” He began to rock back and forth. This couldn’t be happening again, not again.

“Sammy, please. I’m sorry, Sammy, so sorry. Stay with me please.”

Tears fell down his face. His voice broke and cracked as he pleaded.

“Dean.”

Dean jumped at the sound of another’s voice.

“Cas, God, Cas you have to help him, please. I didn’t mean to, I couldn’t control it, I tried to stop it, I tried but I couldn’t.”

“I’ll do my best, Dean, but you have to let me have him. Hand him over.”

Dean shook his head. “I can’t let him go.”

“You need to. It’s the only way I can help. Trust me, Dean.”

Dean pulled away from Sam’s body. It looked lifeless. Cas bent down to take Sam away from him and Dean felt his heart clench.

“Dean, no matter what happens remember that I will always help you. All you ever need to do is ask.” And with that the angel and his brother vanished.

“Cas! Cas! Sammy!”

Dean stood up and looked around frantically. Where had they disappeared to? As he turned around for another look, he came face to face with himself, cold dark black eyes staring back at him.

“And this? This is what you’ll become!”

Dean startled awake. He was back in the hotel room from a couple years back.

“Sammy?”

“Dean, you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“Yeah, I stopped Jeremy. But I couldn’t find you.”

Dean glanced at the paper sitting on the night stand beside the bed and saw the date. He couldn’t explain what had happened, if it was all dream, or if the angels had managed to send him back in time. It was too late to not make the deal, but this time he knew how to stop it. If he didn’t go to hell then he never would break the first seal.

“Call Bobby. Tell him to call up Pam. I need a favor.”

“Pam?”

“Yeah, she knows how to get in touch with an old friend of mine.” He touched his left shoulder, instinct telling him the handprint was still there.

“Why?”

He grinned at his brother. “Gonna save the world, Sammy.”


End file.
